


Change the Winds and Right the Tides

by Bootsrcool



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other pairings to be added, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:17:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bootsrcool/pseuds/Bootsrcool
Summary: On the thirtieth anniversary of Freddie Mercury's death, Roger goes to sleep and wakes up at the end of recording Queen's first album.





	Change the Winds and Right the Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> I have next to no experience writing RPF, so if anyone is out of character, if any facts are wrong, if someone is an asshole here but not in real life, I would just like to point out that this is RPF. Real Person Fiction. Note the Fiction tacked on at the end. The characters/people in this here work of fiction are written as suited for the story. If anyone takes offense to this, I can kindly point out the back button in the corning of your screen. As we used to say back in the mid 2000's and even nowadays, DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!
> 
> This will be a slow to update story and i am sorry for that, but I have other things to take priority, including a full time job where i work nights. By nights I mean until 2 am sometimes. So again, sorry in advance.
> 
> Unbeated, all mistakes are mine!
> 
> With that, please enjoy!

Roger was sad. No, that was the understatement of the decade. Roger was so depressed he didn't see the point in living anymore. 

 

He was old, to put it bluntly. Only seventy one, but musicians never age well. His hands and fingers ached, years and years of drumming then playing guitar had given the bones in his hands something to complain about, his knees were sore all the time and don't get him started on his back!

 

He was seventy one and he had five beautiful, talented children, an amazing wife of eleven years and quite a number or accolades under his belt. In his opinion, he has lived the best life he could have lived.

 

Almost.

 

Roger has always lived with the thought that regrets would become demons eventually, so he tried to not have any regrets. Out of the few he had, there was a really big one.

 

Freddie Mercury.

 

He didn't regret the fights they had, or even the words that were said in anger. He couldn't regret a single moment that had passed between them.

 

He regretted the things not done.

 

Not touching him more. Not hugging him more. Not telling him that he was loved. Fuck, was that man  _ loved _ . He could see it in John’s devastated face when they heard the news of his passing; could see it in Brian’s music. He played with his soul and with his eyes slightly unfocused. He could feel it in himself. Every time he saw a picture of him or thought about him. This incredible and somehow both strong and vulnerable man that performed not just for himself or his own pleasure, but for others. The outcasts who felt like they didn't belong, looking at Freddie like he was their hero. He probably was in a lot of cases.

 

He was still loved by millions around the world, even thirty years after his passing and he must have known that much at least.

 

So as Roger laid his head down on his pillow that night, on the twenty-fourth of November of 2021, he did so with the past in his mind and Freddie’s face behind his eyes.

 

*****

 

Roger woke up very suddenly. So suddenly that he thought he was still dreaming for a few minutes. He was 24 once more, recording Queen’s first self titled album. At the moment they were wrapping up the last song, John in the recording booth, belting out the last few notes of Liar. When he finished up, they went in and packed their stuff away to take home. Roger was blissfully unaware as he gazed over his bandmates as they packed. Brian looked up from where he was locking the case that held his Red Special when he noticed Roger half-heartedly grabbing his things.

 

“You okay, Rog?” the guitarist asked. Roger looked up and smiled happily. 

 

“‘Course I am. We are all together after all.”

 

Brian and Freddie shot him odd looks but smile anyways. A happy Roger Taylor meant no fights. John just smiled, still too new to realize how out of character that sentence was. Soon they were packed and ready to leave. Roger stepped out of the building, a sigh leaving his lips and didn't think twice as he stepped onto the road.

 

“Roger!” a hand reached out and grabbed the drummers arm, pulling him back roughly and to the pavement as a car went hurtling passed, the air tugging at his hair and clothes as it went. Roger sucked in a deep breath at both the smell of asphalt and the pain of gritty bits of gravel digging into his hands and legs. John was staring at him with wide eyes where he was sat next to him. 

 

Roger closed his eyes tightly for a moment, telling himself to wake up, but when he opened them, he was still seated on the ground, John still sitting beside him, Brian and Freddie hovering around them, helping them stand. Freddie’s hand was under Rogers arm and suddenly it was too much. Too much sensation and noise and  _ thoughts _ !

 

Roger flinched away from the touch and then instantly hated himself at Freddies hurt expression. “Sorry, I-” his words cut off as it felt like there was a tight metal band around his chest.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Brian asked incredulously. “You could have gotten killed!”

 

“I, I…”

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Freddie asked.

 

“‘Course,” he replied weakly. His breathing was short.

 

“Should we take him to the hospital?” John asked.

 

“No, I- I’m fine! Just need to get some sleep,” Roger said with a grimace that he tried to pass off as a smile, reaching one hand behind his head to tug sharply at his hair on the back of his neck. The pain was both a relief and terrifying. Because if he was feeling pain in a dream...

 

Then he wasn't really dreaming, was he?


End file.
